


Trespassing

by Azurine



Category: Batman (comicverse)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-06
Updated: 2005-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-06 23:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azurine/pseuds/Azurine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred isn't there, so there's nowhere else to go but to Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trespassing

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a re-reading of "Dark Victory" and set at some point after the events in that book.

"You shouldn't be in here."

The words hit Dick like a slap, and maybe on a different night they would send him scurrying back to his room, away from Bruce and his disapproval. Far enough away that Bruce can't be angry at him just for being around.

But tonight he's desperate, and still shaken from the nightmare, and Alfred didn't come like he always does--Alfred wasn't even in his *room*--so there's nowhere else to go but to Bruce.

Dick's never been in Bruce's bedroom, because he knew without being told that it was off limits, and on a normal night he wouldn't even consider coming here.

But now he did, and he's not going to let Bruce turn him away.

Bruce was already awake and sitting up on the edge of the bed when Dick opened the door, which is the kind of thing that stopped being surprising a long time ago. Rather than the indifference he'd imagined when he first came here, Dick's come to realize that Bruce is *always* watching him, and always knows what he's doing. What he's thinking, what he's feeling.

Even if he doesn't acknowledge it, Bruce knows Dick has feelings, and Dick understands this in his young boy's mind, even if he can't put into words how that knowledge makes him feel.

Dick shuts the door behind him, and once the dim light from the hallway is gone, it's too dark to see if Bruce is surprised or angered by this blatant disobedience. Dick pads across the room, the carpet soft and cool under his bare toes, instinct and training keeping him on the right path until his eyes adjust to the darkness.

Bruce is still sitting on the bed, bare-chested, expensive white sheet covering his legs. He says something as Dick gets closer, but the words don't register and if it was an order, well, Dick's going to ignore it anyway.

Bruce helps everyone. He helps strangers and drug addicts and people who don't even *thank him* for it, because it's the right thing to do, and he spends so much of their time together drilling it into Dick's head, that you help people who need it, always. Dick thinks just this once Bruce should help him.

"Did you have a bad dream?" Bruce says, and Dick realizes that was probably what Bruce said the first time, because he can tell by the tone of Bruce's voice that he's repeating himself, something Bruce dislikes.

But the question seems almost like permission, the closest thing to a softening of Bruce's iron will Dick's seen in ages, and he's always quick to take advantage of it when he can.

Dick nods as he scrambles onto Bruce's lap, wraps his arms around Bruce's neck, the tears he awakened with already subsiding, just at the comfort of a hug. Even if he isn't being hugged back.

Bruce stiffens and says, "Dick," in that warning tone, and his hands close on Dick's arms. Dick knows Bruce is going to make him let go, he's going to send him away, and suddenly he's angry.

Dick *wants* to be Robin. He wants to be responsible and strong and wise beyond his years, but he doesn't think it's fair that being those things means he has to be them all the time. Because he's just a *boy* and he's scared and somehow the fact that he almost never dreams about his parents anymore makes it worse when he does. Why can't Bruce just let him be a little boy for a few minutes?

Then Bruce lets go of Dick's arms and Dick takes the opportunity to snug in closer, wrapping his legs around Bruce's waist, burrowing. He holds on harder, and buries his face in Bruce's neck.

Bruce's hands close around his waist, warm on his bare skin, and Dick hangs on harder. He's not sure why this is suddenly so important, that Bruce not force him away, but it is.

Bruce's hands push at him, but he can't open even an inch of space between their bodies because Dick is determined. He clings, arms and legs and hands, even his toes, clenching at nothing. He's not leaving.

He can feel the moment when Bruce suddenly and totally gives up. When the hands on Dick's waist go from pushing to just lingering there, and the tension in Bruce's body shifts. Dick knows every single way Bruce's body can tense, and he's used to feeling it in the dark, from inches away, and he's used to acting on the signals he gets from those straining muscles.

Right now he knows he can relax, because he's going to get his way and he's going to stay. But he reaches up with one hand and knots his fingers in Bruce's hair, just in case.

It's been a long time since he's been hugged, except by Alfred, and Alfred's hugs are butler hugs. He says he's out of practice, because he's British, and because even when Bruce was a little boy and he lost his parents, he wouldn't let Alfred hug him.

Bruce must be out of practice, too, because his hands keep hovering and landing and then moving again, and it's not a caress, it's more like he doesn't know what to do. Then finally he puts one hand in the middle of Dick's back, spread wide, and Dick can feel how it trembles.

He isn't really sure why all of a sudden it's Bruce who needs to be comforted and reassured, only that he does, and it's automatic in Dick to respond to it.

"It's okay," Dick whispers, and Bruce's other arm curls around Dick's waist and holds him hard. The trembling hand moves up to cup the back of Dick's head, fingers curling into his hair.

He feels Bruce's breath on his ear, an inhale and a pause that tells him Bruce is about to say something, and then the bedroom door opens, flooding the room with a brightness that means someone turned on the lights in the hallway. Bruce jerks and practically pushes Dick off his lap.

Dick lands on his feet out of habit, shivering from the sudden absence of Bruce's body heat. He looks over his shoulder and there's Alfred, one hand on the doorknob, the other holding a cup of tea on a saucer. He's in his bathrobe, but otherwise looks just as awake and well-groomed as always.

Dick goes to him without being told. No one needs to say it's time to go back to his room.

"Come, Master Dick," Alfred says, but his eyes are on Bruce. "You shouldn't be in here."

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a story that was completely ambiguous and could or could not be interpreted as depicting a darker side of this relationship, depending on how the reader chose to look at it. For this reason, I did not opt for the underage warning.


End file.
